


Mine? (Yours.)

by Queen_Martia



Category: Wings of Fire - Tui T. Sutherland
Genre: F/F, Fantasy AU, carnelian likes to pretend she's a big bad pooka but she's really just a lovesick dork, moonwatcher is the best mom, secretkeeper is a good mom, so does this make me a furry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 06:29:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8152348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_Martia/pseuds/Queen_Martia
Summary: What do you do when you meet the creatures of your bedtime stories? You fall in love with them.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nightblaze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightblaze/gifts).



> This is the first time I'm writing smut and it's pure fluff.

When Moon was a little girl, her mother would tell her stories of the creatures that lurked the dark woods outside the village, each more terrible than the last. At night, when the fire was burning low and crickets were singing in the field, and her mother was knitting whatever was needed, she would take her wooden horse and come to her mother’s knee.

“Tell me a story?” she would ask, resting her head against her mother’s thigh. Her mother would sigh and place down her needles.

“No, it’s late. You should be in bed, and it will give you nightmares,” her mother would counter. But her pleading and persistence would wear down her mother, and she would crawl into her lap and snuggle herself against her mother’s chest.

There were many creatures that lurked off the narrow path, waiting for their chance to torture a young thing like her. Rats with leathery wings that would latch themselves onto a man’s neck and release him only once he was drained of all the blood. Little men made of sticks that would entangle a child in their roots and drag them off to hell. A worm the length of a tree, spitting poison that slowly killed a man until he was tearing at his own skin to stop the burning in his limbs.

The stories delighted her, filling her head with the darkest images, and she never grew tired of the fables that lay in her head. It became a joke between her and her mother that whatever plagued them was the fault of the cryptids. When the neighbor’s sheep refused to graze, it was the fault of the ghouls haunting the fields, shrieking and scaring the flock from the sweet grass. When she lost a chicken, it was the wendigoes stealing their food to feed its never-filled belly. It was easy to blame the creatures that never showed themselves to human eyes.

* * *

When she was twelve years old, her mother’s father, an eccentric man with eyes that twinkled with mischief and laughter unheard of for someone his age, gifted to her a cloak he had worn until that day. “Take care of it, child. This is ancient magic,” and he winked at her as he thrust the package into her hands. It was a dark blue that reflected the moonlight alone, with a soft fur-lined hood that covered her face from the sharp light of day. It was soft and thin, and kept her warm even in the darkest winter nights. And no matter how hard she wore it, it never frayed, never tore, never lost the deep color that seemed to imitate the dark abyss of the night sky.

On her seventeenth birthday, her grandfather died. It was a painless death, the doctor told her, and she could almost believe him, at the content expression on the corpse’s face. But she had known for a while what would come of her grandfather. He had told her a week before, in his home at the edge of the village. “I am dying, my child,” he said, and she tried to protest, tried to choke back the tears in her throat, but he held up an unsteady hand to silence her. “Enough! I knew what my actions would do, and I do not regret my decision. Now, go to my closet, and pull out the wooden chest.” He had to pause after every few words, and he could barely stay upright, but his eyes burned with a fire she had not seen before in him. She did as he asked, and pulled out an ornate box with a lock fused to the wood. It was dark ebony, and smelled of smoke, telling of old battles before. She could barely lift it, but she managed, and placed it upon the worn table.

Her grandfather smiled and ran his withered hands across the top. “Listen well, my dear. This is to be opened when you reach eighteen- not a day before then.” He sighed and rested his hand in his lap. “Now, take this home with you, and do not be afraid.” He spoke no more, and she took the chest and kissed his cheek and hurried home. She buried the forbidden box under her bed and cried until finally, she was ready to accept what would come.

On her eighteenth birthday, she opened the chest. In it was a single note, that read;

_ To my grandchild, _

_ If you are reading this, I am dead. _

_ I wrote this when your mother became pregnant, so forgive me if some things are outdated.  _ _ Do not fear that which you do not understand, my child. The forest is dangerous, yes, but it holds many wonders. And one must challenge themselves to grow. Don't be afraid to embrace that scares you. Trust your instincts, seek challenge, and always remember, the world is a chaotic world, but it must be explored. And I will always love you. _

Moon clutched the letter to her chest, and felt, for the first time in a year, that things would be okay.

* * *

 From that day on, Moon found herself drawn to the quiet chaos of the forest. It started at the edge, plucking flowers to bring to her mother, who would quietly place the flowers in a vase, smiling sadly at the blossoms. Soon, though, she grew bolder and bolder, each day going further and further into the woods. Six months in, she had journeyed deep enough that the sounds and smells of the village could not reach the end of her range. After all, the stories her mother used to tell her were just that- stories. There were no real threats in the woods but the traps of hunters and the wild dogs. Even then, the traps she knew enough of to escape, and wild dogs could be evaded by climbing a tree. Bears and wild cats lived farther into the depths, and they didn’t care to eat humans, instead ignoring her in favor of hares and deer.

This morning, her mother was in a good mood, and had made her a small cake to keep her fed while she escaped to the woods. Moon kissed her mother’s cheek and skipped out, grabbing her bag as a last thought. She took her usual trail that day, brushing past the trees, humming quietly, until stopping at a little stream she had dubbed Fox Creek. The little brook bubbled and gurgled as she lay down her blanket, settling down to draw a flower on the other side. Even as the woods hummed around her, she could not shake the feeling that something was watching her.

The feeling only grew as she lingered there, a feeling of eyes watching her from where she couldn’t see. The woods grew quiet around her, the bird’s singing fading into the background.

Moon huffed and set down her notebook. “If anyone’s there, you could come out and say hello,” she called. For a moment, she felt stupid.  _ Of course no one’s there _ , she thought with a breath of irritation. Then the creature stepped out.

Moon shrieked and scurried back, back hitting the tree. She heard a chuckle from the creature. “I thought you wanted me to say hello?” the creature laughed. No, not a creature- a woman, naked save for a tunic that barely went past her stomach. The woman had dark skin the color of amber, and eyes yellow as sunset, and hair fiery red that fell down her shoulder in a warm cascade. But the woman had the ears of a wolf, and her fingers ended with claws, and a soft tail sprouted from her back. And she was looking at Moon as if she were prey.

The woman approached Moon, stepping forward with a predatory smirk on her lips. “Don’t be afraid,” she crooned, rubbing a claw gingerly up Moon’s cheek. Moon repressed a sigh at the contact, fascinated by the sight in front of her. The woman laughed lightly. “What’s a cute thing like you doing in the woods all alone?”

Moon bit her lip. “You-you’re not- I mean, it’s- are you-” Moon squeaked as the woman ran a claw against her throat.

“So fragile,” the woman commented, almost to herself. She pressed the pad of her thumb to the vein, rubbing gently.

Moon reached up and grabbed the woman’s hand, pulling it away from her face. “I’ve heard of you,” she said, a note of fear in her voice.

“Oh?” the woman purred. “Then please, inform me.”

Moon nodded and gulped, struggling to form the words. “You’re a Pooka,” she said, staring straight into the woman’s eyes.

The woman nodded, respect in her eyes. Feeling bolder, Moon continued. “You live in packs of six to ten, with an alpha, their mate, and the children of the mated pair, and your natural enemy are dryads, and…” She dropped off suddenly, distracted by the pooka’s eyes that were fixated on her lips.

“And?” the pooka teased, running a finger across Moon’s lips.

Moon grabbed her hand, entwining their fingers. “And they often take humans as mates.” She leaned closer to the woman, trying to get the message across. “My name is Moon. What’s yours?” she asked.

The pooka chuckled. “Humans are so odd. But, if you must,” she purred, leaning closer to Moon, close enough that Moon could taste the honey on her breath, “call me Carnelian.”

Moon nodded. “Carnelian?”

“Yes?”

“Kiss me.”

Carnelian growled happily and pulled their mouths together. It was not soft, nor gentle, but Carnelian didn’t exactly fit either of those. It was hot, and Carnelian’s chapped lips pushing back on hers felt so good, so right, and when Carnelian licked against her lips, she keened and bucked against Carnelian’s chest.

Moon’s hands found their way to Carnelian’s head, and she brushed a thumb against Carnelian’s ear. Carnelian gasped and broke the kiss, panting into Moon’s neck. Moon smirked and did it again, earning her a low growl tinged with need. Moon laughed, voice tinged with lust. “Well, this is new.”

Carnelian huffed against her chest. “I’ll make you pay for that,” she growled, and she pressed her lips to Moon’s throat, just beneath her chin, and bit. Moon whimpered and bared her neck, falling apart under the pooka’s touch. Carnelian sucked a bruise into her neck, then another, and another. Moon could have done this forever, just the two of them, all alone in the woods.

Carnelian suddenly stopped. Moon looked down at her, confused. She was about to ask before Carnelian pressed a quick kiss onto her lips and whispered, “Tomorrow. Here. Don’t be late.” And then she was gone.

Moon’s knees collapsed, and she slumped against the tree, panting heavily. She idly brought a hand up to the bruise under her jaw, wincing a little at the sudden pain that flared under the touch. She sighed and threw a hand over her hands.  _ I’m so fucked _ , Moon thought, dazed. As she gathered her things, she dimly noted that her cloak was gone.

* * *

Moon knew what she was doing was stupid, and that it was going to get her killed sooner or later. She just didn’t care.

Carnelian dragged a claw over her cheek gently, relishing the pink that flared underneath her touch. “You’re beautiful,” she murmured, rubbing a hand softly on her cheek. She wore the cloak now, and it really did fit her. ‘It keeps me warm at night,’ Carnelian had explained, and Moon didn’t have the heart to take it from her.

Moon smiled and pressed her lips to Carnelian’s hand. Carnelian growled and pulled Moon into a kiss, a real kiss, licking at Moon’s lips. Moon ruled in favor of dragging Carnelian into her lap, trying to taste every corner of her mouth. Carnelian smirked and bit Moon’s lip until the coppery taste of blood filled her mouth. Moon moaned, threading her fingers in Carnelian’s hair and pulling her close. The two broke apart for air, gasping in the cool autumn air. Carnelian rubbed gently at the cut on Moon’s lip. “Mine,” she growled, rubbing her cheek against Moon’s. “I’ll make you mine, all mine, our own pack, together,” she purred into Moon’s ear, rutting against her gently.

Moon nodded. “Yours, only yours, I want it, I want  _ you _ ,” she moaned, bucking into Carnelian.

Carnelian pulled back and chuckled. “Not now,” she murmured, slipping a hand under Moon’s blouse and rubbing  _ just right _ at her breast, drawing a moan from Moon. “I want to wait, wait until you can carry my pups.” Moon would have questioned just how that would happen, but she was too distracted by the fact that Carnelian was now back at her lips, drawing Moon’s tongue into her mouth.

It was only later, when Moon was trying to cover the many hickeys that Carnelian had inflicted upon her, just what she had agreed to. And yet, she couldn’t find it within herself to object.

* * *

When Carnelian took Moon to bed for that first time, while snow was falling around the two of them, Moon hadn’t known what to expect of her. But it was gentle, so gentle Moon almost doubted it was her. Fingers and her mouth and something, and it was too much, and sweet nothings and heat, so much heat, and yet Carnelian was good. And when they were done, when they lay in a puddle of their own sweat and love, Carnelian took them from the cot and carried Moon to the bed, kissing her forehead. And as Moon fell asleep, she felt the cloak placed over her, and she fell asleep.

* * *

When Carnelian met her mother, she expected more of a reaction. Instead, Secretkeeper had just sighed. “It is like our family,” she noted, placing a blanket around the pooka’s shoulder, “to fall in love with the paranormal.”

Moon learned that day about her father. “He was handsome, and I was just a young woman. I never saw him after that night of passion, but he gave me you,” and Secretkeeper rubbed her daughter’s head affectionately, “and I suppose that was enough.”

Carnelian nodded. “That is the way of Incubi. Selfish bastards.”

Secretkeeper sighed and took her daughter’s hand. “Moon, if you really love this pooka, then I ask that you listen to me, and don’t dismiss my words. Humans were never meant to live alone in this world, and so we always have lived with those we don’t understand. If you wish to be her mate, then at least stay close enough so that I can see you.”

Moon nodded, and Secretkeeper smiled wearily. “Then I grant you two my blessing.”

* * *

Carnelian was a good mother, Moon noted, watching as her mate wrestled with their son, Shade. Carnelian cried in mock-defeat as the pup towered over her, claiming dominance.

“I’m the alpha! Bow before me!” He called out, only to be tackled by Heron, his older sister. Thermal, the runt, yipped and joined her siblings in the pile, wrestling about, ignoring their mother in favor of besting each other.

Carnelian chuckled and pulled herself over to Moon, kissing her cheek. “I still can’t believe they’re our pups,” she whispered in happy awe, beaming at the pups wrestling about.

“Well, I do. I did give birth to them, after all.” Carnelian made a happy noise and kissed Moon, all sunshine and giddiness. Moon smiled and kissed her back, until Thermal butted in.

“I want kisses, too!” She pouted. Moon smiled and kissed her forehead gently, and then the other two wanted kisses, and then they scurried off soon after.

Carnelian sighed. “I’ll never let anything happen to them,” she murmured, kissing her mate. “I love you.”

Moon smiled. “Mine?”

“Yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> Don't ask me how Moon get's pregnant, I just write this shit.


End file.
